Darasuum Kote
by Jerry Lannigan
Summary: Derpy Hooves, Twilight Sparkle, and Dynamo Squad: Mandalorian training sergeant, Jedi Padawan, and Republic commandos. This odd team is tasked by General Zey to eliminate Prince Blueblood, a prominent gangster believed to be funding Separatist terror cells across the galaxy. They must go to the lower levels of Coruscant to find Blueblood, but getting to him proves a deadlier task.
1. Prologue

Kamino was damp. No, it was worse than damp: it was an ocean world permanently covered in a torrential downpour. It did nothing to help the mild arthritis in Derpy Hooves's wing joints, nor did the Kaminoans' remarks about her "aberrant" eyes help her feel at ease. She had come to this Force-forsaken hole for work: her old comrade Jango Fett had called weeks earlier, offering six million credits to train elite commandos in exchange for disappearing from the face of the galaxy. Derpy was now part of the _Cuy'val Dar_: _those who no longer exist_. It was just as well, because as far as the grand scheme of life was concerned, the gray pegasus had already been dead for years.

Derpy removed her helmet, clipped it to her belt, ambled onto a walkway, and took stock of her surroundings. The sterile, white dome ceiling rose forty meters above her head, and the equally pristine floor fell even farther below. The height did not bother her: a high-flying species such as hers could not afford to be afraid of heights. However, what she saw taking place in the room bothered her quite a bit.

Enormous white pillars stretched from the floor to the ceiling, and stacked on each pillar were multitudes of thick black rings made up of smaller rings, and within those were… "What the hay?" she said aloud. Within each smaller ring were glass vats, and inside each of the vats was clear liquid and faintly moving bodies. _Human babies._ Derpy gaped. _All those poor kids…_ She tried to imagine herself in that position, and an unwelcome chill ran down her spine. It must have felt like drowning, floating in those humanoid equivalents of fish bowls. She looked away, and noticed that Jango was watching her. "_Su'cuy_, Jango," she said, managing a friendly smile. "It's good to see you."

Jango stood beside her, looking out onto the surrounding room. "Thank you for coming, Derpy. I trust disappearing was easy for you?"

The mare shrugged. "Dinky left the house six years ago. She doesn't need me anymore." She looked once again at the vats of submerged children. "So where are the commandos you're paying me to train? All I've seen so far are babies, you, and those snake-necked aliens that run the place."

Jango rolled his eyes, as though he had gone through similar conversations before. "These particular clones you won't be training, but there is a batch waiting for you in the classroom down the hall."

Derpy looked to Jango. "Clones? Of who?" The smirk on the human's face answered her question. "_You?_" Jango nodded, and Derpy looked back at the vats. "An army of Jangos… I feel sorry for the poor _shabuirse_ who have to fight these guys."

Jango actually laughed. "Well, you certainly take it better than Skirata or Gilamar did." He steered Derpy back down the white corridor she had come from.

"So, how many of these clones am I going to be training?" Derpy asked.

"One hundred and forty-four, tops."

Derpy paused. "How many?"

"One hundred and forty-four," Jango repeated, tapping a keypad on a nearby door and walking Derpy inside. "You may want to familiarize yourself with each one today, because their actual training begins tomorrow."

"Wait, what?"

"Make them soldiers."

The door slid shut behind, cutting off the conversation. Derpy rolled her eyes, turned, and found herself in at a large room filled with stock-still young boys. She stared at them; their wide, dark eyes stared right back. They each looked to be four or five years old and all had the same black hair, brown eyes, and little blue fatigues. _They're so_ _young_… Jango had made it sound like she was going to be training full-grown men, not children. She worked her jaw a little, trying to wet her suddenly dry mouth with saliva. What unnerved her even further was their sheer silence: children at their age would normally be bouncing off the walls and getting into little tussles. Derpy swallowed and stood front and center of the class. "Good morning, commandos," she said, putting on her well-practiced sergeant persona. "I am Sergeant Derpy Hooves. I am not an officer, so you will either call me Sarge, Sergeant Hooves, or Sergeant Derpy. I am your mother and your father now, and you will execute every order I give _to_. _The_. _Letter_. Do I make myself clear?"

The children responded as one voice. "Yes, Sarge!" Fierfek, they really _were_ clones. Derpy was still unnerved, but glad that these children would listen to her. They were nothing like her boisterous daughter Dinky, not at all. The aged sergeant wondered if these clones had names like normal children, and she decided it would not hurt to ask.

"Do you have names?" she asked.

One of the clones spoke up. "We have serial numbers, Sergeant. Do wish us to tell you those?" His accent was like Jango's, but much less pronounced. Moreover, he was perfectly fluent and articulate, a miniature adult.

Derpy was taken aback. None of them had actual names? That should not have been a surprise, given that the Kaminoans considered them standardized units instead of people, but she was surprised anyway. "I'll give you boys real names," she said, her sergeant act slipping away and returning in a moment. "Each of you, split into your assigned squads, and I'll name you four at a time."

Individually naming 144 clone children took a couple hours, but Derpy was amazed that she had gone through all of them without going back to the same one at all. Yes, they all looked the same, but they were, well, different. Soren, from Wampa Squad, had a habit of quietly sucking his teeth, with one eyebrow slightly raised; Cotton Top, from Rancor Squad, had a knowing smirk plastered onto his face and tended to blink more often than his brothers; and Jaster from Dynamo Squad had a habit of scratching the back of his head every couple minutes. When she had finished naming everyone, Derpy retook her place at the front of the classroom. She was about to call it a day and dismiss her charges, but one child—Ijaat, from Jawa Squad—raised his hand. "Yes, Ijaat?"

"Sergeant Derpy?" the kid asked. "What does my name mean?"

Derpy almost face-hoofed at her own stupidity. How could she have not taught these kids their Mando heritage? Without it, they would be dar'manda: eternal Dead Men, men without a Mando soul. "The word _ijaat_ is the _Mando'a_ word for 'honor.'" A hundred more hands went up. "Before we become bogged down in individual meanings, let me tell you about what I am." The hands went down, and Derpy continued. "I am a Mandalorian warrior. I fight for my _allit_, or family; I also fight for those who offer me the most credits…" For the next three hours, Derpy explained to over a hundred little boys what a Mandalorian was, that they were Mandalorians, and that they had a history, a culture, and a language to be proud of. She was glad that she had been a teacher before she became Mando, because she would have otherwise struggled to teach a language to kids who already spoke fluent Basic. She also explained that _Mando'a_ had no word for "hero," because all Mandos could be heroes if they put their minds to it. She even briefly left the room to give them a taste of her special uj muffins, an adaptation of a sticky, sweet cake made with berries. It was a uniquely Mando treat, and the little commandos loved it. Derpy decided to ask Jango later to buy a few more uj cakes the next time he went offworld.

She let her sergeant façade drop once again, and she looked lovingly on the boys as they ate. She felt quite proud, proud that someone liked her baking and proud that these boys were soaking up the knowledge she freely gave them and using it.

When she dismissed them to their barracks after a long four hours, she could hear snatches of _Mando'a_ in their conversations: Sev and Kadral of Krayt Squad were speaking almost entirely in their new language. She watched them go until all of them were gone and the classroom door slid shut. Derpy allowed herself a yawn. She had not noticed how tired she really was until then. She looked at the chrono on the wall opposite her: it read 2021 hours. The gray mare half-stumbled out of the room to her quarters, and she could not recall her head hitting the pillow before falling asleep.

A particularly loud slap of thunder jolted Derpy awake. The chrono on her nightstand read 0100. She groaned, trying to fall back to sleep, but a yelp outside her door caused her to snap to full alert. She had raised children before, and this yelp was no different than Dinky's: it was a cry of pained surprise, like that of a child who accidentally touched a hot stove. Derpy slipped on her helmet, drew her blaster, and flew out the door to investigate. To her horror, she spotted four clone children—Derring, Tor, Kane, and Jaster—cowering before a Kaminoan that appeared to be holding a stun baton. "Return to your chambers, or you will be taken to a reconditioning unit," it said in that neutral, clinical tone all Kaminoans seemed to speak.

Jaster, who appeared to be shielding his other three brothers, looked pleadingly at his apparent assailant. "Kino Su, we just needed to see our sergeant—" he was cut off by a blow from the stun baton, and he fell to the floor, spasming.

Instinct reacted before her brain. Derpy cannoned into Kino Su, knocking him to the floor with a thud. He tried to hit Derpy with the baton, but she was on her feet before he could connect."I'll teach you to hurt little kids, you filthy _hut'uun!_" She raised her blaster, acquired the Kaminoan's head in her HUD, and fired. The smell of ozone and burning fish suddenly filled the air.

The sound of running boots caught her ears, but Derpy slightly relaxed when she saw Jango and a few other of the Cuy'val Dar coming down the hall. "What happened here? We heard a weapon go off," Jango demanded. He looked at the clone children, at Derpy, and then at the dead Kaminoan and the stun baton gripped in its hand. "_Shab_," Jango said. "I expected this from Skirata, but not _you_…"

Derpy growled. "Sorry about the mess, but I will do it again if any of those yellow-eyed freaks touch my boys again." She walked over to Jaster and checked his vitals while Jango had a droid take the body to a medcenter to be disposed. When she found nothing wrong with Jaster's vital signs, she scooped him up in her arms and beckoned for the other three members of Dynamo Squad to follow. She paused for a moment when Jango gave her an annoyed look, but neither Mando said anything. Derpy continued to her chambers, set Dynamo Squad on her bed, and removed her helmet. "Now, I'm sorry you had to see that," she said gently, "but what were you four doing out of bed this late?"

Jaster looked away, ashamed. "I had a bad dream, Sergeant," he said. "I didn't know what to do about it, so I wanted to ask you myself. Tor and the others insisted on coming with me. You know much more than I or my brothers do, so…" he trailed off, gazing up at the pegasus in a silent plea.

Derpy knelt so that she could be eye-to-eye with Jaster. "You want to know something? I had bad dreams when I was your age, too. All the time, in fact. But, you have something to help you cope that I did not have then."

"What was that, Sergeant?" Jaster asked.

"Someone who cares about you." Derpy gathered her boys—yes, they were her boys now—into a tight hug. They could be soldiers in the morning: right now, they could be the little boys they rightfully deserved to be. "And you don't have to call me Sergeant if you don't want to; you can just call me Derpy."

The four children replied as one voice. "Yes, Derpy." Maybe being stranded on Kamino would not be as bad as it seemed after all...


	2. Military-Sanctioned Hijack

**ENDOR ORBIT, 0800 STANDARD GALACTIC TIME, 370 DAYS AFTER THE BATTLE OF GEONOSIS**

When RC-3174, known to his squadmates as Jaster, first saw outer space, he developed a mild envy for the pilot troopers. To him, the stars were a masterpiece, a free light show more beautiful than any Mon Cal opera or glimmik concert. At least, judging from what Sergeant Derpy had told him about Mon Cal operas and glimmik concerts, that is. He wondered where she might be: Sergeant Skirata had signed onto the SO Brigade strength shortly after Geonosis, so there was a chance Derpy would do it as well. He realized he missed the crooked-eyed mare: she had been a wonderful sergeant to all her squads, but she treated his squad—Dynamo Squad—as though they were her own sons. He vividly recalled the night she had saved him from the Kaminoan Kino Su, and could not remember seeing any Kaminoans near his batch in the eight years he had lived and trained in Tipoca City afterward. _Shab_, even Sergeant Skirata, for all his talk of hating them, had never actually _shot_ an aiwha-bait as Derpy had. _Aiwha_-_bait_. Derpy had said that was Skirata's term for Kaminoans, but she also used it quite often. By the time he was seven and fourteen, virtually all the _Cuy'val_ _Dar_ used it at one point, even the non-Mando sergeants.

His helmet comm came to life. "_Jast'i__ka?_" You awake?" Tor, the squad demo man and medic, was fiddling with a frame charge. His armor was the mostly the standard white, but his shoulder and arm plates were covered in blue diagonal stripes. Jaster could not see his brother's face, but he knew Tor well enough to know he was just ribbing.

"I'm awake, Tor. I'm just thinking."

"You're missing Sarge, aren't you?"

Derring cut in on the comm. "I'm right here, Jaster. Don't expect me to hold your hand."

"I miss Derpy, Sarge."

Kane joined in. Jaster could tell from his tone that he was smiling. "Don't worry about her. Knowing her, she's probably back at Arca Barracks, making us a platter of uj muffins."

"Oh _shab_, I love those things." Like all clones, Jaster had a voracious sweet tooth: it was said that their quick metabolisms were the result of the Kaminoans' growth acceleration. Calories and clones went hand-in-hand.

The TIV pilot, whose name was Squirtle for reasons Jaster could not fathom, joined the conversation. "Save me one of those, _ner_ _vod_. I've heard too much from you blokes not to try it once." His neutral, flash-learned accent was originally much weaker than Dynamo's, but Jaster had heard it become stronger since the first time they performed a TIOPS job together. TIOPS stood for Traffic Interdiction Operations—a lovely euphemism for "military-sanctioned hijack"—and Jaster seemed to enjoy it more than his brothers seemed to. He supposed that the thrill of fighting in zero gravity had something to do with it.

Another voice cut in on the comm. "Dynamo Squad, are you in position?" It was ARC Captain Maze's voice. Poor Maze; he had desk duty while his hundred or so brothers were out fighting.

"We are, Captain," Derring said. "So, who are the _shabuirse_ we're supposed to nab this time?"

"Intel says two CR90's and a YT-1200 are headed for you. The YT is said to be carrying explosives bound for Coruscant."

"Didn't Omega nab a Gizer L-6 and some terrorists the other day in a similar fashion?"

"Indeed they did, but Delta and General Tur-Murkan had to save their _shebs_ to get the terrorists. Don't let that happen, and don't let your pilot get killed, either, okay?"

"Roger that, sir. We'll take good care of Squirtle. How many bad guys aboard the YT?"

Maze paused for a moment. "About six to ten hostiles, best intel says. By the way, I have some news from the rear-"

"I think they make a cream for that now, sir," Kane remarked, causing a ripple of laughter through everyone but Maze. ARCs did not seem to have a sense of humor.

"...I have some news from the rear command: your aptly-named sergeant has joined the SO Brigade party." Maybe he did have a sense of humor after all.

Dynamo's mood lifted instantly. "She's back?" Jaster said.

Squirtle cut in. "I don't mean to interrupt your comlink group hugs, but it looks like our quarry has dropped out of hyperspace." Jaster heard the holomap bleep several times, an indicator of the number of incoming ships. Jaster felt a cold weight settle in his gut: it was a combination of fear and adrenaline that told him he was going to fight hard and only see the details crucial to his survival. He, along with the rest of Dynamo, attached the new PEP riot laser attachment to their DC-17s and strapped themselves in. "Oh, _shab_."

Jaster did not like hearing that particular word coming from a pilot. Apparently, neither did Maze nor Derring. "What's wrong?" Maze said calmly.

"Well, Intel was definitely off this time. We appear to have the original lot, but with an _osik_-load of Z-95s. Should we go on anyway?"

Maze sounded uncharacteristically unsure. "Well, if you're going to pull this off, you're going to need to blow the YT's engines and ion cannon it to keep the escape pods stuck. And there's the little matter of taking out the rest of the convoy."

Squirtle chuckled, something Jaster had observed when the pilot was about to do something drastic. "We'll take our chances. Let's rock."

Maze's voice turned back to its natural calm. "Very well, then. Good luck, Dynamo. I'll see that your sergeant gets you those muffins." The implied statement did not register on Jaster until after the comm cut: he was really saying _come back alive_.

* * *

**SO BRIGADE ARCA BARRACKS, CORUSCANT, 0815 GALACTIC STANDARD TIME**

Arca Barracks were quite different from the Jedi Archives: in fact, the only similarity was the top-grade air conditioning. Padawan Twilight Sparkle would have preferred the latter location because of the near-limitless wealth of knowledge, but Master Celestia had said that she needed to pull her head out of the holobooks and that she was ready enough to begin her Jedi trials. Apparently, those trials consisted of sitting on her rump, bored out of her skull while watching commando squads dart in and out of General Zey's briefing room. She missed the Archive: any holovid, game, book, or holocron she wanted was at her disposal there. Here... she only had a copy of the first three Daring Do books on her datapad, and she had already read them a thousand times.

She had never actually seen commando troopers before: she was used to the plain white, somewhat benign armor of the regular troopers; the commandos were a riot of colors, with all shades of blue, red, purple, green, and yellow decorating their armor. Zey had told her that such decoration was influence from their Mandalorian instructors. Twilight thought it odd that such disciplined, focused men were trained by such brutal thugs. She was surprised to learn that some of the instructors were still around, helping their former trainees on missions and even cross-training regular troopers to backfill commando ranks.

She was about to go walking around the landing pad for the third time that day when a pair of unhelmeted commandos came racing down the hall, chatting excitedly. "Gentlemen?" She usually addressed the clones *trooper*, but she decided to use Zey's term of address to avoid a possible gaffe.

The two commandos halted and saluted. "Yes, ma'am?"

"What's the rush? Free cookies at the canteen?"

One commando, who had an X-shaped scar on his left cheek and purple markings on his armor, shook his head. "No, ma'am. We heard our sergeant came back today, so we wanted to meet her." He scratched his neck, looking away slightly. "If that's okay with you..."

Twilight smiled. Despite his physical age, he was acting like the shy child she felt in the Force. "As you were, soldier." She watched them take off past her, their heavy boots clunking hard on the pleek wood floor. She saw herself in them for a moment, that Jedi initiate eager to please Master Celestia. The purple alicorn then wondered who their sergeant was. Perhaps she was one of the Mandalorians? If so, how did such nice boys deal with them? Curiosity got the better of her, and she decided to follow the commandos outside.

To her surprise, she saw that they had joined a small group of more unhelmeted commandos in the middle of the parade ground, who were having a group hug with a middle-aged gray pegasus in gold Mandalorian armor. So _this_ was their sergeant. Twilight was too far away to hear what the pegasus was saying, but she saw her gesturing toward Twilight and heard the approving whoops from the other commandos loud and clear. They suddenly split into two lines of five, with the pegasus in the middle of the first line. Twilight half-expected them to begin a marching drill as she had seen with the regular troopers, but they began rythmically pounding on their chest and leg plates.

_Clack_-_clack_-_clack!_ _Clack_-_clack_-_clack!_ _Clack_-_clack_-_clack!_ _Clack_-_clack_-_clack!_

They began hammering on each others' armor as well as their own, putting all their weight behind the blows.

_Rump-ump-ump-ump-ump! Rump-ump-ump-ump-ump! Rump-ump-ump-ump-ump! Rump-ump-ump-ump-ump!_

Twilight watched, her head tipped to one side as though she were a baffled child. She might as well have been one in this instance. It was not until the commandos began chanting that she realized she was watching a _dance_.

_Taung-sa-rang-bro'ka!_

_Je-tii-se-ka-'rta!_

The commandos layered rythm onto rythm, beating first onto their own armor and turning to beat the complex tempo on the man next to him. Timed correctly, the dance was spectacular; timed wrong, a commando could accidentally break his partner's jaw.

_Dha-Werd-da-Ver-da-a'den-tratu!_

_Cor-u-scan-ta-kan-dosii-adu!_

_Duum-mo-tir-ca-'tra-tracinya!_

_Gra-'tua-cuun-hett-su-dralshy'a!_

The battle dance was strange, hypnotic, and ancient. Twilight had to bodily shake herself out of the trance she did not know she had gone into. Before she could walk away, the pegasus dropped out of the dance and came striding toward Twilight. The commandos continued without her. "Good morning, Commander," the pegasus said, wiping sweat from her brow. "I take it you've never seen the _Dha Werda_ before, have you?" This particular Mandalorian seemed to break every stereotype Twilight had heard about Mandalorians: she was an inch shorter than Twilight, had a goofy smile made goofier by her lazy right eye, and she had a pretty, blond mane tied into braids."I'm Sergeant Derpy Hooves, though you can just call me Derpy if you want. You got a name?"

Twilight cleared her throat to speak. "I'm Padawan Twilight Sparkle, Miss Hooves. My Master sent me so that I may perform the Jedi trials while serving with Special Forces."

Derpy made a slight frown, but she nodded. "I'll make sure Zey will task you appropriately, Commander." Derpy made _Commander_ sound like _kid_. Twilight suddenly felt like a second hyperdrive: how would any of the commandos _need_ a Jedi? Twilight guessed that she would find out from Zey sooner or later.

* * *

**ENDOR ORBIT, 0820 STANDARD GALACTIC TIME**

Derring's gut lurched as Squirtle took the TIV into a steep dive and hit the throttle. "Hang on to your buckets, Dynamo. This is going to be a bumpy ride!" He pulled up Squirtle's POV icon in his HUD; the hostile convoy loomed into view. "Firing homing rockets one through six... now." Six blue ion trails sped away from the ship, followed by six yellow balls of light. "YT's engines and four Z-95's eliminated." Squirtle hit the throttle again. "Ion cannon out... fired. YT's systems are fried. Engaging corvettes and fighters now." Derring swore when the TIV spun and looped on itself to engage the fighters. Unlike Jaster, he did _not_ enjoy space operations. He preferred to have solid ground under his boots. Flying in general made him feel queasy. Squirtle switched over to the TIV's main laser cannons and began blasting away, knocking the Headhunters from the sky as though he were swatting soka flies. "Eat knobs, _bev'ikase!_" Squirtle was picking up more _Mando'a_ by the day, Derring thought. He was even inventing his own insults.

The TIV's hull shuddered as blaster bolts ricocheted off its shields. Derring prayed to whatever deity running the galaxy that it was not a CR90's turbolaser. "Oh, sh-"

"Yeah, that's right! You better run!" Squirtle whooped. "Looks like we'll be left alone, guys. Everyone else bugged out to hyperspace."

"So does that mean we get to play with the YT's crew now? We want to show 'em our new toys," Kane said, checking the charge on his Deece.

"Knock yourelves out, Dynamo. Just don't get carried away and accidentally slot them."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Squirtle," said Derring. "Alright, boys. unstrap yourselves."

Squirtle chuckled. "Thank you for choosing SO Spaceliner, for all your black ops needs."

"Don't wait for a tip," said Kane.

Squirtle came alongside the YT and docked with the hatch nearest to the frieghter's cockpit. Tor attached the frame charge to the hatch. "Take cover, Dynamo!"

_Whump!_

The hatch blew inward, and the squad rushed through. Derring's boots clunked to the floor as the ship's artificial gravity took over and his body remembered how it was supposed to move. He spotted a pair of armored humanoids rushing toward him, and he opened up his PEP laser on them. For a stun weapon, the PEP certainly had some power behind it. The humanoids fell, and Derring moved on while Kane bound their arms. "Sir, if you quit struggling, we'll make sure Republic Intel will give you a cookie for being a good boy."

Derring began barking orders. "Tor, on me. Jaster, get to the cockpit and slice whatever data you can off the computer. Kane, guard the prisoners. We'll make sure you'll have more soon."

"Got it, Sarge."

There were not a lot of places to run on a YT-1200, but freighters like this one often had secret compartments used for smuggling spice and glitterstim. A thought occured to Derring. "Tor, start stomping on the floor panels: there might be compartments underneath some of them. If one comes loose, toss a flash inside and PEP any hostiles."

"Right, Sarge." Tor began marching, letting his heavy plastoid boots thump hard on the floor as if he were a child splashing in a water puddle.

Kane's voice came on the comm. "Guys? Looks like the prisoners are Mandos."

"Whoop-dee-doo, _ner_ _vod_," Derring said as he checked the crew cabins. "So we find some fighting for the CIS, a known fact. Your point?"

"Remember when Derpy told us about her time serving with Jaster Mereel's True Mandalorians?"

"Yeah?" Seeing that the cabins were clear, Derring decided to check the cargo bay. He beckoned to Tor, who had found a single compartment filled with packages of plastic explosives and nothing else. Derring and Tor stacked on either side of the bay's large sliding door and switched their visors to night ops tapped the control panel, and the door slid open. "I'm still trying to see the significance here." He went in the darkened bay and moved right; Tor moved left, each sweeping the room with their lifeform scanners, helmet spotlights, and Deeces all at once.

"The armor on these bozos matches the database's profile on the Death Watch. Didn't Jango kill them all?"

Jaster cut in. "I suppose not. And from my rummage of the onboard computer, it seems that there is a faction alive and well on Corrie."

Satisfied that there were no more hostiles aboard, Derring flicked off his helmet light, went back to the floor compartment, and removed a few of the packages. "Tor, give me hand with these. We can't get all of it on the TIV, because we still have to have room for us and the prisoners, but a few armfuls should be enough for the Nulls and CSF to play with."

Tor tutted, filling his arms with packages. "Amateurs. This is pretty low-grade plastic explosive for Sep terrorists. You really think the Null ARCs would be interested in this?"

"Well, beggars can't be choosers, Tor. If you had nothing else but this stuff to bring down as many hostiles as possible, would _you_ be complaining that you didn't have five-hundred-grade thermal explosive?"

"Point taken, Derring."

"I wonder what happened to the four to eight other hostiles that were supposed to be onboard?" Jaster asked. "The navicomputer indicated that they came from Concordia, went to Hoth, then Bespin, then Naboo for some reason, and then here. Why?"

"Send that info to the Nulls; they're good at piecing random information together."

"You really seem to trust them, don't you?" Kane remarked.

"Never actually met one of them, but Omega says they're great at what they do. I trust their judgment." Derring opened his comm to Arca Barracks. "Captain Maze? We've successfully boarded the YT-1200 and nabbed two terrorists. Looks like Intel was four hostiles short this time, but they were right about the explosives."

However, Maze was not the one who answered the comm. "Well done, _ad'ike_. I'll make you an extra-large batch of uj muffins when you get back."


	3. Tasking

**ARCA BARRACKS, CORUSCANT, 1913 GALACTIC STANDARD TIME, 372 DAYS AFTER THE BATTLE OF GEONOSIS**

General Zey's impression in the Force indicated a man under great stress. Twilight was not surprised: he was the head of Special Operations, and he was working a little over half the original commando strength on a war that seemed to span so many fronts that she wondered how the Separatists had not overrun the Grand Army already. However, Zey's expression indicated simple tiredness. He had an excellent sabacc face. "Commander Sparkle, Sergeant Hooves," he greeted, gesturing to the seats in front of his desk. The two equines climbed onto the chairs and sat on their haunches. "Would you like some caf?"

"Pass," said Derpy. Twilight politely declined with a hoof. "So, What are my orders, General?"

Zey pulled a datapad from the sleeve of his brown robe, activated it, and slid it to Derpy. "Recognize this face?" Derpy and Twilight looked at the 'pad: it displayed a picture of a handsome, white unicorn stallion with a tan mane, ice blue eyes, and a smugly self-satisfied look on his face.

Derpy cocked her head curiously. "Well, well. I haven't seen this guy since he was a foal. Takes after his father almost perfectly."

"Who is it?" Twilight asked.

"Solaris 'Prince' Blueblood, padawan," Zey explained. "He runs half the casinos in the entertainment quarter, and a lucrative smuggling business on the side."

Derpy raised an eyebrow. "So what if he runs a smuggling business? Shouldn't that be CSF's problem?"

"Normally it would, but look at this." Zey tapped the 'pad screen several times, bringing up a map of Coruscant's entertainment sector: hundreds of buildings were highlighted in yellow, green, and blue across the map. "The yellow buildings belong to Blueblood. The greens belong to the Hutts, and the blues are run by legitimate owners, which explains why there are only fifteen of them. The smallest yellow casino seems to be the one Blueblood frequents most often, and is assumed to be a front for his smuggling business. Now, look at what Null-5 managed to piece together from the data Dynamo Squad sliced off the YT-1200's computer." He tapped the 'pad once again: purple spots began showing up in the yellow buildings. "The purple spots are hangouts for known Separatist sympathizers, specifically former Death Watch members."

Twilight felt a flash of red-hot anger from Derpy's generally benign impression in the Force, but the only outward indication of the pegasus's anger was a furrowed brow. "You don't say."

Zey smiled. "You know, a battalion from the 41st Elite is actually here on shore leave for a couple weeks. I could extend this to you, Commander Sparkle, and Dynamo, if you wish." He turned off the datapad and slipped it back in his robe. "An experienced mercenary like yourself would know her way around some of the more _interesting_ parts of Coruscant. And with all those credits Fett paid you..."

A knowing smirk appeared on Derpy's face. "...I suppose I could _reinvest_ some of those hard-earned credits. Maybe I can give my boys their overdue allowances, too." She looked at Twilight. "And from what I've heard from General Zey here, _you_ need to get out more often. Maybe I can show you how to play sabacc. You're a Jedi, so I assume you'd be pretty good at it." She gave Twilight a friendly pat on the back and looked back to Zey. "Tell me, how long is this shore leave again?"

"Two weeks, though you may extend it if you find the experience that diverting. I won't be coming with you, unfortunately: I've been having problems with my vision and hearing lately."

"You may want to put off the cataract and inner ear surgeries until we come back. Wouldn't want to not have friends near the OR to greet you when you come out, would we?"

"I suppose not. I won't be able to help, should you run afoul of the local riffraff."

"Don't worry about us: we can handle ourselves, and we're not cops." Twilight had learned from Master Celestia that language was a wonderful tool: two people could have a conversation about one subject when they were talking about a very, _very_ different subject. Zey had just authorized Derpy to perform a surveillance/shoot-to-kill operation in the heart of the Republic without consent of the Senate, and he had just turned blind and deaf to it all until Derpy sent him the bill. And yet, neither actually discussed the issue.

"I figured as much," said Zey. "You are both dismissed."

Derpy saluted, and Twilight gave a short bow. "Very good, Master Zey," said Twilight. Both she and Derpy hopped from their seats and left the briefing room. As soon as the door slid shut behind her, Twilight gave Derpy a questioning look. "You seem very well-spoken-"

"For a Mandalorian? Yeah, I get that a lot." Derpy turned face-to-face with Twilight. "I need to explain something to you: once my boys rendevous with us, we're going to find ourselves a nice, quiet motel to stay in downtown. You're also going to need to ditch the Jedi getup and the padawan braid, but keep your lightsaber handy."

Twilight stammered. "I-I'm so sorry, I never meant any offense; you just seem so _different_ from the Mandalorians I've read about."

Derpy softened her sergeant act a little. "I'm not. You just never read about what we're like when not fighting for our lives."

Derpy paused. "Do you know the meaning of the term _black_ _ops_, Twilight?"

The purple alicorn nodded. "Yes..."

"Good. Now, once we leave Arca Barracks with Dynamo, the only chain of command is me, myself, and I. We're going to be on our own: there will be no Zey, there will be no Yoda, and there will be no 'Commander' or 'Sergeant.' You're probably going to end up calling me _Mom _or _Buir_." The clunking of heavy plastoid boots interrupted whatever protest Twilight was about to say. Derpy looked over Twilight's shoulder, and a gigantic grin plastered itself to her face. "Boys!"

Twilight turned around to see a squad of brightly-painted commandos barreling toward her and Derpy. She jumped out of their way and heard the distinctive _clack_ of metal on plastoid; for a moment, she thought the troopers had accidentally run Derpy over. But when she got to her hooves, she saw that Derpy was being smothered in a group hug by the much larger commandos. The noise she had heard was the sound of their initial embrace. One commando, who had light purple runes on his chest plate, spoke first. "We're glad you're back, Sarge," he said. He and the other commandos were still wearing their helmets, but Twilight could tell from their impression in the Force that they were all wearing the same grin as Derpy's. "We missed you."

"Aw, I couldn't stay behind while you guys were out kicking _shebs_, could I?" The gray pegasus looked at the purple-marked commando with a mock-frown. "C'mon, you're not getting shot at, Jaster: you can take off your _buy'ce_." Twilight suddenly felt very lonely. Not even her relationship with Master Celestia was this personal, this _intense_: the attachments between the commandos and their sergeant were almost tangible in the Force. She felt quite excluded indeed. Derpy looked at Twilight and cleared her throat. "Dynamo Squad, meet Commander Twilight Sparkle."

The commandos converged on Twilight, who suddenly went from feeling excluded to _included_; she went bright red. "A Jedi?" the one named Jaster said in amazement. "What an honor it is to meet you."

Twilight cleared her throat. "The pleasure is mine," she said shyly.

Jaster took off his helmet; he looked exactly like every other commando she encountered, except for the thousand and one little details that made him unique. His presence in the Force was quite child-like, innocent yet mature and battle-hardened at the same time. He held out his hand to shake her hoof, and she accepted the proffered hand. "As you may have heard, I'm Jaster." He gestured to his brothers. "The one with the blue stripes is Tor, the one with the blue-and-black digital camo is Derring, and the one with the mythosaur skull on his chest plate is Kane." Each brother inclined his head as he was introduced and Twilight raised her hoove to each of them, her cheeks still red. "Shy little Padawan, aren't you? Jaster said. "You sure she's up for Geonosis, Derpy?"

"I'm sure, _Jast'ika_," Derpy replied. "She may have had her nose stuck in a holobook most of the year, but Zey tells me she's a fast learner."

"Say, Commander Sparkle," Tor said. "We've never met a Jedi before; could you show us your lightsaber, please?"

Derpy raised an eyebrow. "A year at war, and you guys _never_ met Zey, Camas, or Jusik?"

Tor shrugged. "We've talked to them via comlink, but we've never actually met them. Twilight here is the first." Twilight's horn gave off a magenta glow, and her lightsaber slipped from her belt. She turned over through the air, noticing the commandos' mesmerized stares. "Wanna hold it?" she said, looking at Jaster. "The bar sticking out from the grip turns it on, and the hollow end is where the blade comes out." Jaster nodded, holding the weapon as if it were a glass figurine. He backed away a foot, pointed the hollow end upward, and thumbed the switch.

_Vzzzzzzm_.

A soft purple blade sprung from the device, and Jaster's eyes widened. "_Kandosii_," he said quietly. "Where did you get this?"

"I made it myself," Twilight said matter-of-factly.

Jaster paused, looked at Twilight, and then back at the blade. "It's the same color as your eyes," he observed. Twilight's cheeks grew warmer at that comment. Jaster gave the weapon a few test swings, switched it off, and handed the saber back to her. "Impressive. Maybe you can show me how to make one of those sometime?"

Derpy hovered behind Jaster and gave him a playful shove in the back. "Alright, lovebirds, break it up. Zey's waiting to debrief you."

"No need, Sarge," said Derring. "He already did that before we entered the atmosphere." "Well, that's good." Kane piped up. "Sarge, is our next mission really a recce job on Geonosis? I thought we took care of the place already."

Derpy shook her head. "The bugs are starting to get in a fighting mood again. But that's for later this month. Right now, you boys are getting two weeks of R-and-R."

"_Leave?_" All four commandos said the word as though it were a new _Mando'a_ word she was teaching them.

"Yep. I'm giving you the grand tour: casinos, clubs, the whole shebang." She motioned to the door to the landing pad. "I have a speeder for all of us outside. Get in your reds and put your armor in the trunk. I'll explain everything on the way to our motel. The Bothan running the place owes me credits anyway, so we'll all get nice rooms."

"Yes, _Derp'buir_," the commandos chorused. They then started jogging down the hall to Twilight's left, nearly running over Captain Maze in the process.

Derpy chuckled. "Looks like Jaster's taken a shine to you, girl."

Twilight changed the subject before her cheeks became any hotter. "'_Derp'buir_?'"

"Oh, that's _Mando'a _for _Mama_ _Derpy_. I've been the closest thing they ever had to a biological mother." She looked down the hall at Captain Maze, and back at Twilight. "Thankfully, family is more than blood. They really are my sons, you know."

Twilight cocked her head. "Sorry?" "I adopted them the day after I saved their lives. They're my legal heirs, according to Mando custom."

"That's legal?"

Derpy frowned slightly. "Nothing in the regs says I _can't_."

"I meant no offense, Derpy," Twilight said, raising a hoof defensively. "I'm just surprised, that's all. I think it's great that you made these men your kids."

Derpy's grin returned. "Well, they won't be in the 'freshers much longer. Get in the Gian speeder next to the Flash you rode in on. We won't be long."

"Okay, Derpy," said Twilight. She trotted off to the landing pad, her mind racing. She wondered if Master Zey-or worse, Master Celestia-had sensed her sudden attraction to the commando Jaster; what would happen if they _did?_ Would she be thrown out of the Order? Would she be bumped down to the AgriCorps? What would Master Celestia think of her?

Twilight sat in the speeder for a few minutes, watching the hustle and bustle of nighttime Coruscant. She then looked at her shoulder and noticed the braid draped across it. She knew she had to cut it off, but she could not bring herself to do it: the braid felt permanent as wedding ring, something that upon removal seemed to take away from one's being. Her horn lit up, and she quickly undid the braid with the Force. She had never felt so ashamed in her life. She then removed her Jedi cloak and robes and put them in the glove compartment with her lightsaber, leaving herself naked. While most species were bothered by lack of clothing, most ponies like Twilight were not; clothing was considered an option for her species, and even Master Celestia had often chosen her fur over the classic Jedi garb when she could help it.

She took slow, deep breaths, remembering the meditation techniques Celestia had taught her. She reflected on what she had felt when Jaster had made that comment about her lightsaber; he was merely being bluntly observant, a product of his inner child. He was not flirting. She herself, Twilight reasoned, was as sensitive to praise as much as she was sensitive to criticism; of course she would have reacted that way. Twilight felt a burden lift from her back, and she sighed with relief. Master Celestia would have been pleased.

After a few minutes, Derpy and Dynamo Squad piled into the speeder. Twilight found herself sandwiched between Tor and Derpy, and she was glad that the commando's fatigues were softer than their armor. She eventually dozed off with her head in Tor's lap. Derpy smiled to herself when Jaster, Derring, and Kane began poking fun at Tor. _They really are my kids, aren't they?_ she thought as she guided the speeder toward the heart of Coruscant's tourism district. _Don't worry. boys: you're going to have a future if it kills me._


	4. Blueblood

**THE SPB GRAND CASINO, ENTERTAINMENT SECTOR, CORUSCANT, 2145 GST, 372 DAYS ABG**

Solaris "Prince" Blueblood sipped on a rare Trandoshan ale as he watched his profits grow from the main casino below him. Although born into riches himself, the stallion had nearly quadrupled his inheritance in four years thanks to his ever-increasing gambling empire. He could have anything he wanted with the clop of his hooves, and he savored that privilege.

He spied a pair of Twi'lek females chatting by Sabacc Table 209; one was a brilliant hot pink, and the other was a soft jungle green. Yes, he could even have _them_ if he wanted. But he was not in the mood for mating tonight: he was content to watch his customers gamble their credits away, like a child watching his favorite aquarium fish. As he neared the bottom of his ale, he felt a tap on his shoulder. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

A unicorn in tropical blue Mandalorian armor appeared in his field of vision. Its mane fell from under the helmet in red and golden braids. "The casino next door is yours, sir." The voice was female, with a soft Corellian accent. "When will my brothers receive the ordnance?"

Blueblood shook his head, "Unfortunately, I cannot provide you with them right now: the ship with your payment was hijacked."

"_What_?"

"My sources tell me a heavily armed utility vessel disabled and presumably boarded it." Blueblood finished his ale and looked at the Mando. "Considering the freighter's crew consisted of your associates and the reported daring of the attack, I assume it was a simple vengeance attack by other Mandalorians. Perhaps you would prefer credits this time around, Lieutenant Shimmer?" Blueblood could not see his employee's face, but he felt utter rage consume her impression in the Force. He was almost rattled by her intensity. Almost.

"Fine," she said, her voice showing only annoyance instead of anger. "My men and I can buy from the black market, I suppose. By the way, I caught someone trying to bomb the casino next door. She's waiting in the basement for you with your pet."

Blueblood sighed. "Come with me. I want you to record our chat, in case Jabba gets any ideas." He turned and walked to the nearest turbolift with Shimmer. She tapped the keypad by the door, the door slid shut, and the 'lift plunged deep into the casino's bowels.

The 'lift came to a halt a few minutes later, and the door slid open to reveal a long, polished metal hallway bathed in eerie red light, with a set of blast doors at the end. Blueblood's white fur now appeared blood red, and Shimmer's armor appeared a dark royal purple. The doors slid open as they walked through, and they found themselves standing above what looked like a large aquarium. The aquarium was rectangular, stretched from one side of the room to the other, and was lit from the bottom by small spotlights nestled among the rocks and corals. A metal catwalk ending in a circular platform extended over the water, and the platform was supported from below by metal stilts. A white unicorn mare with a purple mane and blue eyes stood shackled to the platform, apparently so terrified that there was a little puddle on the floor around her. Blueblood sauntered onto the platform, eyeing the mare interrogatively. "Why, oh why did you attempt to deface my business?" he said calmly. "It's not like you were going to put a dent in my profits, but I am curious as to why you would even try."

"_What!_ I had no idea there was a bomb in my saddlebags! Had I known, I would have called the police, or-"

Blueblood put a hoof over her mouth. Her impression in the Force only indicated animal fear of death, not fear of breaking from interrogation. Blueblood decided she was innocent, but he also she would be a potential security leak if he let her go. "I suggest that you should be more careful with leaving your bags unattended, Miss...?"

"Rarity," the mare said, visibly relaxing. There was a pause. "So," she said, putting on an innocent smile, "are you going to let me go? Your associate blindfolded me after she, uh, *arrested* me. I have no idea where I am, but I swear I won't tell anyone." She stood more erect now, her eyes shining with hope. In the past, Blueblood would have felt positively wretched for what he was about to allow, but now all he felt was a mild twinge of regret for eliminating such a fine young lady.

"I'm sorry, Miss Rarity. I cannot let you go." He nodded at Shimmer, who levitated her blaster and pressed it between Rarity's eyes.

_Bdap!_

Shimmer holstered her weapon, unshackled Rarity's body, and dumped it in the water. A huge, dark orange fin broke the water by the body; both disappeared underwater in a flurry of cyan bioluminescent light. Muffled crunching noises were heard, visully accompanied by a dark red cloud in the water. Blueblood walked back toward the turbolift, while Shimmer stayed behind to watch. He could sense the Mandalorian's enjoyment; she obviously liked watching others hunt as much as she herself liked to hunt. He could even hear her chuckling that low, satisfied chuckle he heard from time to time. When the blast doors slid shut behind him, all sound from the other room was silenced. Blueblood tapped the 'lift keypad a few times, the 'lift shot upward to its destination.

Ten minutes later, the turbolift came to a halt and the door slid open, this time revealing a large, fancy room with a 360 degree panoramic view of Coruscant's skyline. A velvet futon covered with Felucian silk blankets sat in the center of the room; an three-meter wide circular aquarium occupied by a dozens of tropical fish made up the floor under the futon; and a weapon rack holding his favorite Verpine sniper rifle and his old lightsaber stood by the bed. Blueblood sat down on the futon and eyed the Jedi Temple in the distance. He missed the Archives. He missed Master Celestia. Fierfek, he just *missed* everything about the place. But he knew they would never take him back; Master Luna had made sure of that.

He thought about his newest employee, Sunset Shimmer: she had come to him looking for a security job last year, and she had wanted payment in explosives instead of credits. Because of the mining facility on Kessel he inherited from his father and his dodgy minor Hutt contacts, getting said explosives turned out to be much cheaper than just giving Shimmer credits to buy her own. He knew what they were being used for as well; nobody could ever miss the rash of bombings on the planet, not with HNE reporting every single one with full media coverage. But he cared not for what was happening on Coruscant outside his territory, not even if the entire Separatist fleet showed up and began bombing the rest of the place to oblivion. Shimmer and her gang of bounty hunters and assassins were reliable employees, and so long as none of the chaos they made in their little crusade could be linked to himself, he could have cared less. Blueblood's horn glowed, and the lightsaber slipped from the rack and floated toward him. He stared at it fondly: he remembered when he first built the weapon in the crystal caves of Ilum. He activated the blade.

_Vzzzzzzm_.

"I don't know why you still have that thing," Sunset Shimmer questioned. Blueblood looked up: he had not heard her come in. To move so quietly in such heavy armor was no mean feat, and it was part of what made her such a competent assassin. "Clinging to a past life isn't very healthy. My _vode_ know that better than anyone else." She removed her helmet, revealing her beautiful sea green eyes and freckled cheeks.

Blueblood made a _hmph_ sound. "I made it with my own hooves. I take pride in my work, and I won't waste it over a desire to reinvent myself." He deactivated the blade."Why do you fight for the Separatists, Sunset?" Only in complete privacy did Blueblood _ever_ address Sunset Shimmer by her first name. In public it was strictly _Lieutenant_ or _Shimmer_. "Do you wish Mandalore to be independent from the Republic?"

A crafty grin appeared on Sunset's face. "More than that. I want to see _Manda'yaim_ return to her imperial glory." She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. "At one point in history, we ruled half the galaxy; the _aruetiise_ would surrender at the very mention of our armies; our name would strike terror into the hearts of even the most powerful Jedi! And now look: all we are to most of the galaxy is quaint offworlders in pretty armor." She sighed. "The Death Watch and the Seps are merely an alliance of covenience. Once they bring the Republic to its knees and our numbers increase to their former strength, Mandalore will crush what is left of the Republic and bring down the rest of the _aruetiise_ with them!"

Blueblood was hardly fluent with _Mando'a_, but he knew what the term _aruetiise_ meant rather well. "I see. So once your _glorious_ Death Watch empire returns, what need would you have for me?"

Sunset looked thoughtful. "At the moment, you're no use to us dead. Maybe someday you'll join us, and put away that shiny stick for good."

"Comforting." Blueblood looked toward the distant outline of the Jedi Temple once more. He briefly wondered what would happen if an entire army of Mandalorian warriors marched on the Temple, and then looked back at Sunset. "Here, take this. It's your payment." Blueblood's horn glowed, and he fished a bag of high-denomination credit chips from a nearby drawer. He tossed the bag to Sunset, who caught it and stuffed it in a pouch on her belt.

Sunset touched her brow with a hoof in an informal salute and replaced her helmet. "Thank you. I'll make sure these credits will be put to good use." Her horn glowed, and she vanished in a flash of light.

* * *

**THE DON'T GO INN, ENTERAINMENT SECTOR, CORUSCANT, 0730 GST, 373 ABG**

Kane chuckled when he saw the neon sign above the motel door, while everyone else shook their heads. "Something tells me _not_ to stay at a motel with a stupid pun for a name," Jaster said.

Derpy smiled and rolled her eyes. "You think, _ad'ika?_ But hey, it's cheap, and you get free drinks any time of day." She giggled sweetly, a strangely girly gesture for a veteran commando. "At least, when I'm done talking to the owner." Twilight raised an eyebrow, but she said nothing. Derpy motioned for Dynamo and Twilight to follow, turned to the motel door, and pushed it inside. "_Gavin?_" Derpy called in a sweet, sing-song voice. "You in here?"

Twilight felt a jolt of panic in the Force, and a dark brown Bothan-the apparent source of the panic-ducked behind the bar to her left. Derpy lazily flew over to the counter, went behind the bar, and grabbed the Bothan by the collar, with her _teeth_.

Twilight felt her jaw drop a good inch. Not only was Derpy incredibly strong for her age, but the Bothan Gavin's demeanor suggested she had been more than a simple sergeant in the past. Dynamo watched, riveted. "So Gavin," Derpy said after she dragged Gavin into a booth, "I have a favor to ask." She sounded as if she were asking a young child to take out the trash.

Gavin looked petrified. "Derpy, I swear I'll pay you back! I have literally a hundred credits until-"

Derpy put a silencing hoof on his mouth. Credits barely mattered to her now: the money she had earned for training her commando batch had made her rich enough to buy half the motels in the area. But Gavin did not need to know that. "I'm willing to call off your debt if you do _exactly. As. I. Say. __Tayli'bac?_" It was the most aggressive way a Mando could ask a question, and if went unanswered usually meant a brawl.

Gavin did not seem any less scared, but at least his trembling ceased. "Yes?" he squeaked.

Derpy gestured toward Twilight and Dynamo. "My daughter and her associates are looking for a place to stay while on leave."

The Bothan performed a double-take. "Fierfek, are those guys who I think they are?"

Derpy nodded proudly. "Yep. Clones."

Gavin looked disbelievingly at Derpy. "You work for the Jedi Council now?"

In one move, Derpy grabbed Gavin by the collar, slammed his head into the table, ejected the vibroblade from her left forleg plate, and pinned Gavin's collar to the table with the blade. "I have nothing to do with the _shabla_ Jedi Council, _mir'osik,_" she hissed. "I'm only a consultant on military matters." Twilight moved closer, ready to intervene in case things got out of hand. Derpy sheathed her arm blade, allowing Gavin to sit upright again.

"M-my mistake, Mis Hooves," said Gavin. "What was it that you wanted me to do?"

"My daughter and the boys are on two weeks' leave. They're not really into alcohol, but they like lots of _fresh_ food and sugary drinks. You will provide all that for free, in addition to two top-floor rooms at half the normal price, preferably near the landing pad."

Gavin looked as if he were about to object, but he seemed to back down upon seeing the vibroblade housing on Derpy's arm plate. "Will do, ma'am." He handed her a pair of keycards. "Enjoy your stay."

Derpy's normal friendly smile returned. "Thank you, Gavin." She waved to Twilight and Dynamo as she slid out the booth. "Come on, kids; get your bags from the trunk and we'll see your rooms."

"Yes, Derpy," Dynamo chorused. As they went back outside to get their armor-filled suitcases from the Gian, Twilight stared at Derpy: the younger mare's face was a study in shock. Derpy raised an eyebrow, and she motioned for Twilight to follow her into the refreshers.

Upon entering the refreshers and finding a utility closet big enough for both of them, Twilight unleashed a barrage of questions. "What the hay was all _that_ for? And what's your deal with Jedi? Did you really have to threaten him to get what we needed? He seemed plenty scared of you already!" Derpy calmly and silently listened to each of Twilight's questions until Twilight was out of breath, and responded rather politely for someone who just threatened another being with a vibroblade.

"Gavin is a slimy son of a bantha, Twilight; he's cheated me more times than I could cout in the past, and I'd rather join the Death Watch than let him put another one over on me. I don't have a problem with Jedi, but I _do_ have a problem with the Council."

"Why?"

"...You've seriously never heard of Galidraan, have you?"

"Wait, you mean..."

Their conversation was interrupted when a Trandoshan pulled the closet door open to see what the ruckus was about. Derpy reacted, throwing a well-aimed buck to the hapless Trando's chest and drawing her blaster. "Do you mind?" she said calmly as the humanoid saurian picked itself off the floor."Mando business. A little mother-daughter chit-chat." The Trando nodded weakly, wobbling into a refresher stall and sitting down to catch its breath. Derpy noticed Twilight's shocked look. "What?"

"You just _flattened_ a Trandoshan."

"She barged into our conversation. What else do you think I would do?"

"But you _bucked_ her in the ribs. She probably needs to go to the hospital!"

"Trust me, it takes a lot more than one to kill a Trando. It usually takes about three or four."

"Good to know," the Trandoshan croaked.

* * *

**Author's Note: So now we've finally met our villains, and Twilight has seen Derpy's dark side. The next chapter will have more Dynamo, I promise.**

**God Bless and May the Force Be with You,**

**Jerry**


	5. Ner Tomad Cuyi Jetii'kot

**THE DON'T GO INN, ENTERTAINMENT SECTOR, CORUSCANT, 1200 GST, 373 DAYS ABG**

Jaster shifted on the old faux-bantha leather couch, looking out the open window at Coruscant's cityscape. At night, the city was like a coral reef, buzzing with activity and vibrant colors; during the day, the skylanes were just as packed with speeders and ships, but they seemed absorbed by the sliver and slate gray of the surrounding architecture. And it was _beautiful._ Jaster wondered what it must be like to rappel from the top of a casino at night, with all the lights flashing and with such a wonderful vista stretched out before him. He stood up and walked closer to the window to get a better view. Oh, what he would give to be back in his armor, with its built-in rappel line and winch!

"If you think _this_ view's nice, wait until I show you boys around my place on _Manda'yaim._ Big, grassy plains as far as the eye can see." Jaster turned, and he saw Derpy hovering behind him.

"You're serious?" Jaster asked. The pegasus had often spoken of her home on Mandalore between training exercises on Tipoca City, and just as often wished to show her boys around the place. "But how are we going to arrange that in the middle of a war? Are we just staying here for a couple days while you're booking a trip?"

Derpy paused, and then patted Jaster on the back with an armored hoof. "Not exactly. I'll tell you and the squad what's really going on at dinner. Say, can you and your brothers be good boys and hold the fort while I'm gone? I have to run a few errands."

"Will do, _Derp'buir_. Where is everyone else, anyway?"

Derpy frowned, tapping her chin with a hoof. "Let's see... Derring and Tor are playing cards downstairs, Kane's having a caf-slurping contest with the Mon Calamari bartender, and Twilight's in our room, meditating." Her smile returned to its usual spot on her lips. "Can you watch her for me? I would take her along on my errands, but I have a little surprise for her. Something a little tougher than those robes."

Jaster nodded. "Very good, _Derp'buir_. How long will you be gone?"

"I'll be back in three hours. I also have to get some groceries." Derpy spread her arms to offer a hug, and Jaster accepted the offer. "Be good, _Jast'ika_."

"_K'oyacyi_," Derpy." The hug released, and Jaster turned to look at Coruscant's vast skyline once more. He stood there for a good minute, and then headed for the suite's exit. He locked the door behind him as he left, and knocked on the door directly across the hall three times. The door slid open, but to Jaster's surprise, Twilight was not standing behind it. Confused, he walked inside, his hand instinctively gripping the DC-15s sidearm on his belt. There were no corners to check by the door: like his room, the two-meter long hall that led to the door was just as wide as the door, and the suite lay beyond that. He also knew that there was more than likely no danger. Still, without his protective armor, Jaster felt comforted by the weapon's presence.

He peered into the suite; Twilight was sitting on one of two queen-sized beds, with her eyes closed, wings flared, and horn aglow. He noticed several pieces of clothing appeared to be floating in a lazy circle around her, as well as her lightaber. He watched as the items themselves began to rotate while they orbited around her. Was _that_ what all Jedi did during meditation? Jaster slowly stepped from the hall into what would have been Twilight's line of sight, had her eyes been open. "Miss Sparkle?"

Twilight's eyes opened, and for a brief moment he thought he saw white light emitting from them. The clothes settled gently on the other bed, while Twilight's lightsaber rested at her side. "Yes, Jaster?"

He hesitated, but only for a second. It was not every day someone got to see a Jedi meditate, much less use her powers in such an odd way. "Derpy told me to keep you company while she went on a few errands. She'll be back around 1500, tops."

Twilight cocked an eyebrow, but then nodded. "I see she doesn't exactly trust me yet. Oh, well. At least she doesn't mind my meditating."

"Yes, about that..." Jaster said, trying to keep the conversation by not throwing all his questions at her at once. "Were you using the Force? You looked like you had a whole star system revolving around you."

Twilight smiled. Jaster was a curious one, and she savored every opportunity to share knowledge. This was one heck of an opportunity. "Indeed I was. My master taught me everything she knows about the Force." Her horn glowed, and suddenly a datapad on the nightstand between the beds morphed into a cup of tea. Her horn glowed again, and the cup levitated into the air to her lips. She took a sip, and offered the cup to a stunned Jaster. "I'm even pioneering techniques of atomic manipulation."

Jaster gave the tea an investigative sniff: it definitely smelled like tea. He sipped: it most certainly tasted like tea, and it was the perfect warmth, too. He looked at Twilight, and then at the cup in his hand. "That's... how... _what?_" Jaster's head swam. Not only did he witness Twilight move a dozen objects through the air just by meditating, but she could bend matter to the point where she could turn a datapad into tea! The rational, logical part of his mind told him it was impossible, but his five senses told him otherwise. He drained the cup and handed it back to Twilight. "Are all of you that powerful?" he asked.

Twilight shook her head. "I'm not as powerful as General Skywalker, but I know how to use what I have a lot better than he does." She decided to change the subject before that statement could sink into Jaster's mind and cause Force-knows-what to happen. "Do you meditate, Jaster?"

Jaster frowned contemplatively and tapped his chin, a habit Twilight had seen in Derpy. "I'm not sure. I tend to zone out and think a lot when I see something I think is pretty, but..."

Twilight nodded. "That is a form of meditation Master Celestia taught me. 'Focus on the beauty, Twilight Sparkle, and your senses will become like a vibroknife.'"

"Is that why you meditate?" Jaster asked as he sat on the bed next to Twilight's. The purple mare fascinated him to no end. "To sharpen your Jedi senses?"

"Yes. Master Yoda actually taught me that when I was just a foal." Twilight closed her eyes, relishing the memory of learning basic meditation from the ancient green Jedi. "'Your ally is the Force, Padawan Sparkle, and a powerful ally it is. Feel it around you, you must; let it flow through you, you must. To do this, meditate daily, you must.'" She had not realized she was impersonating Yoda's gravelly tone until the last syllable, and by then Jaster was biting the back of his hand and shaking violently. For a split second Twilight thought he was having a seizure, but the mirthful glow from his Force impression told her he was actually _laughing_. An unwanted grin sprouted on her lips, and her diaphragm began working rapidly. She could not believe she was laughing at the expense of the wisest Jedi in the galaxy, and yet here she was, laughing and sharing that laughter with another being. The Force lit up around them, causing Twilight to laugh harder; the presence of the Light Side, when intense enough, had that effect on most Jedi.

The door slid open, and a room service droid rolled into the room with a tray of sugar-laden snacks and carbonated drinks. Jaster quickly regained control of himself, and took the tray from the droid. "Will that be all, sir?" the droid said.

"Yes, thank you. On your way, then." As the droid left, Jaster took a handful of black cookies with white frosting on their tops and began chowing down. He paused halfway through his second cookie, and offered the two remaining in his hand to Twilight. "Want one? These things are delicious." Twilight's horn glowed, and one cookie levitated until it was squarely on her tongue. She closed her mouth, and began chewing. Jaster was right: those cookies _were _delicious.

* * *

**CRAZY PARZEEGAN'S STORAGE, JUST OUTSIDE CORUSCANT'S ENTERTAINMENT SECTOR, 1433 GST**

Derpy confidently swaggered to the miniscule storage lot's front office, and a few minutes later came back out with a large suitcase in her mouth. She placed the suitcase in the speeder's trunk, and was about to get in the cockpit and head back to the motel when she spotted a group of four humans and two ponies in brightly-colored Mando armor loading metal crates into the cargo hold of a box-shaped speeder truck. One of the ponies, a unicorn in tropical blue armor with dark blue highlights, looked in Derpy's direction and nodded. She must have noticed how Derpy's eyes pointed in odd directions: it was often a side effect of a severe concussion in ponies. Unlike Derpy, however, the crossed-eyed look eventually went away after a month or two.

Derpy slipped on her helmet, got in the Gian speeder's cockpit, and pretended to search for her keys while she observed the other Mando. Mandalorian ponies were uncommon, and Mandalorian unicorns were almost unheard of: most belonged to the upper crust of society and grew up to be businessponies, politicians, and occasionally Jedi. It was rare sight to see a unicorn take the job of mercenary.

She intently watched the turquoise-armored mare for a few moments. The unicorn, along with her earth pony and human associates, finished stacking the crates in the hold and shut the door. As they piled into the truck, Derpy spotted a familiar, yet loathesome, image painted on the unicorn's flank plates: the W-shaped silohuette of a shriek-hawk, the insignia of the Death Watch. Derpy's blood boiled in her veins. She vividly recalled the last time she saw that symbol, at the Battle of Korda Six: that was the battle that had ended in the death of her longtime friend and _Mand'alor_, Jaster Mereel. The very sight of the blasphemous insignia made the old mare forget that she was on an errand, wait for the truck to take off into the skylanes, and quickly follow. _Just where do you think you're going, _aruetii? she thought as she followed four speeders behind the truck. She tailed her target for several minutes until she was well into the entertainment sector, toward the rear lot of the SPB Grand Casino. Derpy recalled the previous day's briefing, and a smirk appeared on her face. These _had_ to be the _chakaare_ getting chummy with Blueblood. Well, at least the intel was right for on—

_Bdapbdapbdapbdap!_

Neon green blaster bolts screamed over her head. She glanced behind her: a squadron of swoop bikes, all crewed by humans, were fast on her tail. She made to turn around and show the _di'kute_ the Gian's hidden laser cannon, but the bikers zoomed past her toward the Death Watch speeder truck. The swoops fired into the truck's main repulsor drive, causing the truck to careen out of control and crash into a parking lot. Derpy eased up on her speeder's throttle, set it down on the top of an office building, activated her rangefinder, and watched the ensuing firefight.

* * *

**Well, things are starting to pick up, aren't they? Stay tuned for more badassery, blasters, and ponies!**

**God Bless and May the Force Be with You,**

**Jerry Lannigan**


End file.
